


live in the moment

by babylupin



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drabble, F/F, F/M, Goodnight, I Don't Even Know, M/M, but it's 12am, enjoy, fuck knows, harry is super moody, i don't even think it makes sense, it's now january 2nd so, new years eve/day is over, so i'm gonna post it, such a drabble, why am i posting this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-10-02 09:14:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17261561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/babylupin/pseuds/babylupin
Summary: harry's been feeling down lately so ron and hermione take him to a new year's eve party (almost against his will). he wants to go home but they insist he's going to find someone to enjoy the night with.this summary is so shit i swear i'm better at writing fic than i am summaries





	live in the moment

The street was unusually quiet for New Year’s Eve. Harry turned his collar up as the cold wind bit at his exposed neck and cheeks, and he picked up his pace to catch up with Ron and Hermione. He looked up at one of the houses on the street and scowled at the Christmas decorations: Christmas this year had been one of his worst since he’d found out he was a wizard, which was strange as he ordinarily had a lovely time with the Weasleys and Hermione and Luna. He usually didn’t feel too alone when he was around everyone while they were with their girlfriends and boyfriends, but this year it had really bothered him. He’d been a total humbug on Christmas Eve, and nearly everyone didn’t bring it up, although he suspected this was because Hermione had - to his annoyance - told people he was missing his parents. He wasn’t missing his parents. No, he was _always_ missing his parents. He just wished he had someone to miss them with. A sibling or a significant other.

Nobody had actually confronted him about his mood apart from George, who, naturally, was also not really feeling the Christmas spirit. Harry had been stropping off upstairs to sulk while everyone else laughed and talked as they made mince pies, and George had caught him at the bottom of the stairs.

“Harry,” he’d said. “Are you alright?”

Harry had turned around and come down a step, staring resolutely at his feet. “Not really.”

“Are you missing your parents? That’s what Hermione said, but I suspect there’s something else at play.”

“I’m always missing my parents… But you’re right. It’s not that.”

“Do tell. It might make you feel better to talk to someone about it.”

“I just wish I had someone.”

“What do you mean? You’ve got an entire room full of people back there-”  
“No, I mean... _someone_. Hermione has Ron; Ginny has Luna; Bill has Fleur; your mum has your dad… I want someone. It’s hard seeing everybody happy together when I don’t have anyone like that. I haven’t since me and Ginny went out nearly three years ago.”

“I understand,” said George.

“I don’t usually let it get to me,” Harry had said, shaking his head. “I’m being stupid.”

He’d tried to move past George and back to the kitchen, but George had grabbed Harry’s arm. Harry looked up at him, brow furrowed. George spoke in a low whisper. “You’re not being stupid. You can’t call yourself stupid for what you’re feeling.”

Harry swallowed and blinked slowly. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw something moving above their heads and looked up. His heart had dropped to his feet. It was enchanted mistletoe snaking above their heads. He slowly looked back at George and met his eyes, swallowing hard. George lifted a hand and cupped Harry’s cheek, and then leaned forward so slowly Harry wasn’t sure if he was moving. George's lips were cold and he tasted of mince pies. Harry remembered he had instantly felt better.

“Mooorning,” said a very smug voice. George pulled away and Harry turned to see Ginny standing and gloating from the kitchen doorway. “Not interrupting anything, am I?”

Harry laughed. “‘Course not.”

“Good,” Ginny grinned. “Come on, you two, Mum needs help.”

“There are at least ten people in that room, how could she possibly need _more_ help?”

Ginny shrugged. “Just come on.”

Harry knew that the kiss between him and George didn’t mean anything; that it could happen and be wonderful - and it definitely was - and nothing had to change between them. That kiss had apparently been exactly what Harry needed to make him feel better that day. Granted, he was still sad the next day and the days that followed, and even now, on New Year’s Eve, he was feeling incredibly lonely, but the kiss had still been refreshing.

“Is it too late for me to turn back?” Harry whined, slipping his arms through Ron and Hermione’s.

“Stop whinging, Harry,” Hermione tutted. “You might actually have a good time!”

“You’re dragging me to a New Year’s party without a date. At midnight everyone’s going to be kissing someone and I’ll be trying to drown myself in the bathroom.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she sighed. “You’ll be with us.”

“You’re going _together_.” Harry rolled his eyes. “You two’ll be snogging at midnight too.”

“I certainly hope so,” Ron grinned, and Harry and Hermione laughed. “Chin up, mate, you might meet someone there.”

“Fat chance. Who’s even hosting this party?”

Ron and Hermione exchanged smug side glances, to which Harry responded with a groan. “You’re not going to tell me? Why did I let you drag me into this?”

“I dunno,” said Ron. “If I were you, I’d never have gone for it.”

Harry groaned again. They turned down a narrow lane and walked for a few minutes through a thicket of trees until Harry suddenly experienced the familiar feeling of being squeezed through a rubber tube. He barely had time to gasp for breath before they were back on solid ground. Harry fell over and felt his head spinning. He closed his mouth tight.

“Sorry, Harry,” Hermione said, rushing over to him. “I should have said something…”

“What the fuck was the point in walking if we were going to Apparate anyway?” Harry gasped.

“I thought it might be nice to walk at this time of night. It was so quiet...”

Harry rolled his eyes and allowed Ron to pull him to his feet. “Thanks. Where are we?” He turned to take in his surroundings. He didn’t recognise the area. He could see an illustrious mansion a ways away, with tall spiked fences surrounding the dark grounds. He looked at Ron and frowned. “We aren’t at Malfoy Manor, are we?”

Ron laughed. “No, mate. This is Daphne Greengrass’s place. Well- her family’s.”

“Daphne Greengrass?” Harry gaped at Ron and Hermione. “Since when are we friends with her?”

“Well, she was in my Arithmancy class for a very long time, and we actually got on pretty well,” said Hermione. “She invited me tonight and told me I could bring you two along if I wanted.”

Harry nodded. “Right. So, should we go in? I could really go for a bucket of Firewhisky right now…”

Hermione led them along a tidy gravel drive up to the gates, which swung open independently and gave them entrance to the expansive lawn and grounds. They could hear music playing and people chatting. As they drew nearer to the front doors it got louder, and as Hermione lifted her knuckles to knock on the oak, the doors were thrown open and the sound of music was considerably louder than it had been a second ago. Harry clapped his hands over his ears and pulled a face to which Hermione rolled her eyes and Ron laughed.

“Hermione, you’re here!” came an excited squeal, and Harry looked around to see a tall girl with a sleek and shiny blonde ponytail walking quickly towards them in glittering black heels. Daphne threw her arms around Hermione, exposing her pale arms where countless tattoos were inked. Harry watched them with awe as they moved around on her milky white skin. The two girls separated and Daphne waved hello to Harry and Ron, who timidly greeted her in return.

“Refreshments are over there!” Daphne shouted, pointing a black-painted finger in one direction, “And the dance floor is over there!” she pointed it in another. “Help yourself to food and drinks and try not to knock any of my parents’ shit over! They’ll kill me!”

“Are they not here?” Hermione yelled over the blaring music.

Daphne shook her head, her expression gleeful. “No! They decided to spend the week in Belgium!”

“And they trust you?” Ron shouted.

“Not really! But they trust Astoria, my sister!” Daphne replied. “I’ll introduce you to her if I see her!”

Ron gave her a thumbs up, and she strutted off towards the elaborate black marble staircase where people were chatting enthusiastically, drinks in hand.

“Should we go get some drinks?” Harry asked them, and they nodded, pushing through the crowd to try and find the refreshments. It took them a while, as they kept running into their friends and chatting to see how everyone was. By the time they finally found the drinks, Harry reckoned they’d been there for an hour already. He poured himself a glass of Firewhisky and downed it, then another. After a few shots, he opened one of the bottles of Butterbeer and shuddered before heading out to mingle. He searched for Ron and Hermione but couldn’t find them.

 _‘Fucks sake,’_ he thought. _‘We’ve only just got here and I’ve already lost them.’_

“You look lost, Potter.” Harry whirled around to see Pansy Parkinson smiling malevolently at him. She was wearing a black dress that looked simple enough to be a slip but chic enough to be a party dress. To match, she wore black eyeliner and lipstick. She looked fantastic. Harry couldn’t help but stare.

“Parkinson,” he said.

“Call me Pansy, _please_. I hate my last name.” Pansy shuddered, taking a sip of her martini.

“How come?”

“The ungodly legacy that accompanies the Parkinson name is one I do not care for. Although I do appreciate the way my name rolls off the tongue. Can’t go wrong with a bit of alliteration.”

Harry took a long swig of Butterbeer, and Pansy observed him with curiosity.

“Are you here with a date, Potter?”

“Unfortunately for you, no.”

“I am literally at my girlfriend’s house. You _wish_ you could date someone like me.”

Harry laughed mirthlessly. “Not really. Have you seen Ron or Hermione around?”

“Yes,” she said and slinked away. Harry bit back the urge to throw his bottle of Butterbeer after her. Instead, he rolled his eyes and stalked off, looking for a familiar face that he actually liked. He saw Luna across the room and made his way over to her.

“Hello again, Harry,” she said serenely to him. “Where’s Ron?”

He shrugged. “Ginny around? I haven’t seen her tonight? She didn’t come with us.”

“I think she said she was coming round later on. I can’t recall why…”

Harry continued to speak to Luna for what felt like hours until he felt a strong hand clap him on the back, followed by a roar of delight that could only belong to Ron.

“There you are, mate! We’ve been looking for you!”

“Obviously not hard enough! I don’t mind though; Luna’s been excellent company.”

“How are you, Luna?” Ron asked. “Any plans for the New Year?”

“I need to finish my book on creatures that are always assumed to be mythological-” Hermione made a small noise but Luna continued unfazed. “I have to write more letters to my father. I think I’ll ask Ginny to move in with me… And I need to visit my mother’s grave more often, too. OH! I also need to adopt a cat.”

“Wait, wait, wait, what was the middle one?” Ron asked, gaping at her. Harry and Hermione were gaping too.

“About visiting my mother’s grave? Well, I don’t make enough time to go-”

“No! About Ginny!”

“Oh, right… I want to ask her if she wants to live with me.”

“Wow, Luna! That’s a big step!” said Harry, taking a long drink from his bottle.

“I suppose so... Do you think she’ll want to?”

“Absolutely!” said all three of them at once. “You two are over the moon in love with each other!”

“Well, _I_ certainly love her with all my heart. I’m glad you all think she feels the same way.”

“It’s obvious!”

“What’s obvious?” said Ginny, appearing at Luna’s side, a bottle of Butterbeer already in her hand.

“Nothing!” said Hermione loudly, going slightly pink in the nose.

“Hermione, it’s alright,” Luna smiled, turning to Ginny and beaming at her. “Will you move in with me?”

“Really? Yeah! I’d love to!” Ginny kissed her and hugged her, both of them grinning from ear to ear. Everyone within earshot cheered, but Harry felt a familiar sinking feeling in his chest. He’d been doing so well, too. Relatively, anyway.

Now he was riddled with loneliness once more. He leaned into Ron’s ear and told him he was going to get another drink and then moved away from the crowd. He was happy for Ginny and Luna, he really was, but he couldn’t help wishing he had something like that with someone. Harry wandered down a packed corridor and emerged in an almost empty room, save for a few couples who did not help Harry’s dilemma as they snogged in corners and against walls. Harry left the room through another door and was in a deserted corridor. This house was a fucking maze. Harry tried doors left and right until he found a bathroom, and burst inside it, breathing heavily, head spinning. He splashed cold water on his face and undid his top button. He glanced up at his reflection in the mirror: he was sweating and his already unruly hair was a wild black mess atop his head. He noticed a stain on his shirt and sniffed it to find that it smelled strongly of Firewhisky, then pulled the shirt off in its entirety so that he was standing, sweaty and bare-chested, in a bathroom in an enormous mansion. This was not how he had seen his evening going.

Suddenly, the door banged open and in walked the very last person Harry wanted to see at that moment: Draco sodding Malfoy.

“Oh, sorry- Potter?” Malfoy smirked, his eyes roaming over Harry’s naked torso. “What in Merlin’s name are you doing in here?”

“I- Fuck knows,” Harry sighed, leaning against the sink. He glanced up and noticed that Malfoy was still looking at his chest.

“Can you stop checking me out and, like, fuck off?”

Malfoy laughed. “I’m not checking you out.”

“Malfoy, I can literally _see_ your eyes. Looking at my chest. I’m right here.”

“Yes you are…” said Malfoy, not even trying to hide it as he looked Harry up and down.

“Get out!” Harry gasped, standing up and attempting to shoo him out, to no avail.

“Do you need a clean shirt?”

“Get- Actually, yeah. Do you carry a spare one around?”

“Of course not, Potter, it would get creased. But Sebastian Greengrass probably has a few in his room upstairs.”

“Who the fuck is _Sebastian_ Greengrass?”

“Daphne’s elder brother; about six years older than her. He isn’t here, either, meaning we can go nick one of his shirts so that you aren’t topless at midnight. Although…”

“Oi!”

Malfoy chuckled again and led Harry out of the bathroom and down the corridor, emerging in a room filled with mirrors and expensive-looking sofas. Malfoy then showed Harry up another ornate staircase and into the largest bedroom Harry had ever seen. On the far wall was a four-poster bed, but nothing like the one Harry had slept in at Hogwarts: this one had intricate carvings running up and down the posts and what Harry assumed to be the Greengrass crest at the foot of the bed in the centre. There was a large bearskin rug in front of an empty fireplace, and tall spotless windows that stretched from floor to ceiling, giving the room an impressive view of the gardens below.

“Here you are,” Malfoy said, tossing Harry a blur of blue. When Harry caught it, he was immediately aware of how expensive the shirt must be and how expensive it _felt_ in Harry’s unworthy hands.

“Put it on, will you?”

“This house is enormous,” Harry said, slipping his arms through the sleeves. “I thought the guests were all over the ground floor-”

“Oh no, that looks awful,” Malfoy said absently. “Take it off and give it here. I’ll find you another one.”

“Er- okay…” Harry frowned and took the shirt off. “Why are you helping me, Malfoy?”

“Why not?”

“Because we hate each other.”

“Do we?” Malfoy gave him a look as he passed Harry another shirt. “I know we _did_ , but don’t you think that was childish? Shouldn’t we start fresh? Come on, Potter, it _is_ the New Year…”

Harry shrugged, his fingers frozen on the buttons. “Might as well.”

“Good,” Draco nodded. “Right. Well, that one looks incredible on you.”

“Oi! Just because we’re friends now doesn’t mean you can flirt with me.”

“I’m not flirting with you.”

Harry narrowed his eyes at him and went to look at himself in the mirror. Draco was right: this shirt did look incredible on him. It was a deep forest green that complimented the hue of his eyes and brightened up his face. It went well with his dark skin tone and made him look less tired.

“Shall we?” Draco called from the doorway, and Harry smiled to himself before crossing the room.

*

Harry was perusing the selection of drinks at the refreshments table, grinning uncontrollably and feeling considerably better than earlier. He felt like he was floating. He and Draco had started to make their way back to the main throb of the party when they’d heard mad laughter coming from one of the bedrooms. They’d wandered in to find Daphne and Pansy sitting cross-legged on a thick rug in what Harry assumed was Daphne’s room, playing Patty Cake with one another and giggling hysterically. Pansy had invited Draco and Harry to join them and they’d spent the last two hours or so talking and laughing.

“Where the hell have you been?” Ron’s voice boomed from behind him.

“Socialising! Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“Yeah! I just didn’t expect you to actually do it!” Ron grinned. “You look a bit drunk, mate!”

“I _feel_ a bit drunk! No, I feel a lot drunk! It’s great!”

“It won’t be tomorrow…”

“Tomorrow is tomorrow! I want to live right now!” Harry yelled, far louder than necessary.  “Well, see you later!”

“Harry, there’s ten minutes to midnight!”

“Oh… See you next year, then!” Harry beamed, stumbling away. He successfully carried his drinks back upstairs to where he, Draco, Daphne and Pansy were hiding out on a balcony under the stars. They were bundled up in blankets and coats that Astoria had brought to them with amusement and were waiting for the clock to strike midnight and the fireworks to start.

“You were ages,” Draco said, taking his drink from Harry as Harry settled back down. “I feel like it’s even colder when you aren’t here.”

“Oh, Merlin,” Pansy rolled her eyes. “ _Really_ , Draco?”

Harry smiled warmly, ignoring her. “Probably because I’m so hot.”

Draco laughed. “Yeah. Probably.”

“Will you two stop _flirting_ so much, and just - just _snog_!” Daphne whispered.

“Eugh.” Harry and Draco said together, triggering a bout of drunken laughter from all four of them. They had worked through most of Daphne’s booze stash from her room and were now staring up at the clear night sky, dotted with millions upon millions of glittering stars. Harry checked his watch.

“I’ve no idea what time it is,” he said, squinting at it.

“Two minutes,” said Pansy, who was the least drunk of the lot, but still quite drunk all the same.

Harry turned to Draco, who was wearing a giddy smile and looking at Harry like he was the living embodiment of everything good in the world. Harry grinned at him and inched closer. He leaned in and whispered, so quietly that only Draco could hear him, “You’re alright you know.”

“Am I?” Draco smiled. “Good to know.”

“You’re funny. Really funny - but not like you’re trying too hard. And you’re good company too; pleasant to be around. It’s been fun tonight. I was really dreading coming to this party and wasn’t having the best time until you ran into me in the bathroom.”

“When you weren’t wearing a top.” Draco grinned.

“When I wasn’t wearing a top, yes.” Harry nodded, chuckling.

“I’ve had fun too.” Draco agreed. “I mean, I wasn’t having a terrible time before I met you here, but I’ve had more fun since then. You’re a pretty good person, Potter. I can see why everyone likes you so much.”

“One minute.” Pansy chipped in.

“I wonder how different our lives would be if we’d been friends all these years,” Harry whispered.

“I don’t care.”

“What?”

“I don’t care what our lives would have been like if we’d been friends. I care that we’ve grown from what we used to be. I care that we’ve got the rest of our lives ahead of us to be friends and to share experiences with. It doesn’t matter what happened in the past, because there isn’t any use dwelling on things that have already happened. What we can focus on is what’s happening right now; we can live in the moment.”

Harry stared at him. He felt like he was looking at a different man. How was this the same Draco Malfoy that had bullied him for years and insisted on being such a petulant arse while they were at school? He seemed so lovely now… So soft and good-hearted. Maybe he really did want to change.

“You’re quite the philosophical drunk, aren’t you?”

_“Five! Four!”_

“I don’t know. I’m drunk, aren’t I?”

_“Three! Two! One!”_

“Happy New Year, Draco.” Harry grinned.

“Happy New Year, Harry.” Draco beamed back, sealing what little space remained between them and kissing him softly. Harry heard fireworks exploding all around them, but all he could fixate on was the softness and warmth of Draco’s lips. In fact, the fireworks only added to the magic of the kiss. They broke apart and Harry pushed his forehead against Draco’s.

“You two finished?” Pansy inquired, grinning. Draco laughed and crawled over to her, throwing his arms around her neck and pulling her into a hug. Harry brushed his hair out of his face and laughed as Daphne hugged him too. He would not have imagined going into the New Year with a group of Slytherins but did not resent it. He’d see Ron and Hermione later after all.

**Author's Note:**

> i don't know what the fuck this was i hope it was alright??? not sure if i really needed to add that harry/george moment even if it was brief (i don't even ship) but it's there!! i guess!! i started this on nye and thought i might as well finish it. please leave kudos and comments mwah


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